


Sonnet Seduction

by KlainebowsAndDramioneflies



Series: Sonnet Verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Grad Student Blaine, M/M, Poetry, Teacher-Student Relationship, Undergrad Kurt, about Blaine's ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 06:16:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3799969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlainebowsAndDramioneflies/pseuds/KlainebowsAndDramioneflies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a teacher/student AU fic based on this tumblr post: "I have a head cannon that once during an English class Kurt spaced out and wrote a whole sonnet about Blaine's butt which he accidentally handed in."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sonnet Seduction

Kurt Hummel was bored. In all honesty, he was bored with most of his classes. He was just starting to take the more advanced classes, since his first year had been full of freshman requirements instead of anything that meant anything. Now, though, he was stuck in business classes that he was only taking so that he had something after he finished his Vogue.com internship and started his own fashion line and he was  _still_  stuck in ridiculous required classes. Like the English 102 class he currently sat in.

 

Sure, it wasn't the worst class in the world, but he'd done all of this back in high school. It was the same old crap over and over, and if he had to research one more political agenda for a persuasive essay or research paper, Kurt was going to slap someone. Or some _thing_. Mmm, yes, definitely something.

 

Blue eyes lit up as he watched his 'professor' turn on his heel to write something elegantly on the blackboard. The graduate student set down his chalk and slapped his hands together before wiping said hands on his dark jeans, leaving grey hand prints on his, in Kurt's opinion, rather delectable ass.

 

The brunette licked his lips as he admired said ass before a  _"Mr. Anderson?"_  caught the teacher's attention and had the 23 year old instructor turning to face his class with bright hazel eyes. Kurt was momentarily distracted from his thoughts about that handprinted ass by the adorable bow tie and over-the-top suspenders. God, there was one damn good reason Kurt never missed his English class.

 

Something about Mr. Blaine Anderson just got under Kurt's skin. At some point the older male had wandered over to one of his students who didn't understand something about the importance of capitalizing the letter 'I' (he honestly didn't understand how some people got into college) but Kurt was happily doodling a bow tie in the bottom corner of his notebook. He'd been working on a draft of a reference page but got bored and turned the page to absently think inappropriate thoughts.

 

One of these thoughts happened to be about how easy it would be to undo that bow tie and use it to tie the overly-gelled man's wrists to a headboard. Or a desk leg. Or maybe his professor's chair… Kurt bit his lip as he glanced over to where his professor was looking over some of the references his more… needy students had scrounged up. And there it was. That  _gorgeous_  ass.

 

Licking lips that suddenly seemed much too dry, Kurt had to hold back a groan of appreciation as he started doodling again, sketching that bulbous body part in the upper corner, diagonal from the not-so-innocent bow tie. Mmm, he wanted to design pants for that man. Then peel them off of him. He had to cough to hide the whimper that clawed at the back of his throat as Blaine- er,  _Mr. Anderson_ \- bent over a desk just across the room from where Kurt sat staring. He was probably openly gaping at this point, but no one paid him much attention, so it hardly mattered. And this sight was so worth getting caught and teased a bit.  _So worth it_.

 

Once  _Mr. Anderson_  had straightened up and gone back to writing pointless notes on the board, Kurt bit his tongue and started scrawling across the page, feeling oddly… poetic. He couldn't help but smirk as he composed a sonnet just as dirty as Shakespeare himself. The man would be proud. Even if the actual poem was shit from an English standpoint.

 

The countertenor couldn't help but bite his lip to hold back any… uncomfortable noises as he read over what he'd just written:

 

_With every move across the room, I stare._

_That gorgeous, bulbous bubble-butt of yours,_

_Deserves more than eyes- hands need to roam there._

_That ass is something I just can't ignore._

_The way your pants hug that gorgeous tush,_

_My reaction only makes me human._

_I bite my lip and give my mind a push,_

_But damn, you have no clue what you're doin'._

_Bent over a desk, that ass is so hot,_

_It's a goddamn gift to the world, and me._

_But I want to jump you and I cannot,_

_And it's driving me crazy, can't you see?_

_I want to bend you over that damn desk,_

_And pound into that ass as you scream "YES!"_

 

Okay, so it was… really bad. But it was accurate. And it was actually in iambic pentameter and everything. Kurt was rather proud of himself, even if he did have a growing pain in his groin. He should really know better than to wear such tight pants to this class given how damn often he had this not-so-little problem.

 

While he was still lost in his own dirty thoughts, the professor had asked for them to turn in what references they'd listed, and Kurt had completely missed the direction. Thus, when Mr. Anderson stood before his desk with his hand out expectantly, Kurt turned a bit red and frantically flipped back to his reference sheet, ripping it out of the notebook and shoving it into his professor's outstretched hand and ignoring the slight tremor in his own hand as he reminded himself to breathe.

 

It was only once the older man had moved on to gather the rest of the class's papers that Kurt looked down at his notebook. And his heart stopped for a moment. He flipped the somehow empty top page of his notebook, then flipped the whole thing over and frantically flipped back a page, but no. Those were just old notes and old bow tie doodles. " _Fuck_ ," he muttered as silently as he could. He'd just turned in a fucking  _sex sonnet_  with his reference sheet. To his damn teacher. About whose ass the sonnet was written. This was Kurt's life. And now Bla-  _Mr. Anderson_  was leafing through the papers in an apparent attempt to make sure everyone actually did… something. It was always hard to tell if anyone would actually do work in this class.

 

Kurt willed himself to sink straight through his seat and get swallowed by the floor as he saw his professor's triangular brows shoot up toward his gel-tamed locks. And… was he  _blushing_? The older man cleared his throat then and set the stack (half of which he hadn't even looked at) on his desk, glancing at Kurt with an unreadable expression before motioning to the class as a whole.

 

"Alright, I think that about covers it for today. There's only ten minutes left of the class period anyway, so consider this a gift and use the extra time to get some  _good_  sources, okay?" the professor said with a grin, dismissing the students. He cleared his throat, though, and focused solely on the brunette in the front row near his desk. "Kurt, can you stay behind for a minute? You have some… interesting sources I'd like to discuss."

 

Those hazel eyes were sparkling in a mischievous way that had Kurt sinking further in his chair even as he muttered a "uh, sure," and dropping his gaze until the room was otherwise empty. His professor strolled casually over to the door and closed it with ease. Kurt heard the distinct  _'click'_  of the lock sliding into its slot. He couldn't hold back the soft gasp as he glanced up at his professor who had started his way back across the room toward Kurt.

 

"You know, you're lucky I know your handwriting, considering you didn't put a name on  _either_  of the papers you turned in. Of course, the trademark bow tie doodle was a bit of a giveaway as well." The professor laughed openly as Kurt gave him a somewhat astonished look. "I see you drawing them in the margins every time you bother to take notes, Kurt. You're about as subtle as a little kid who really has to pee."

 

Kurt couldn't help but laugh, even if he was giving his teacher an indignant look. "I have  _never_  been a fan of subtlety,  _Mr. Anderson_ ," he stated simply, getting up from his own desk and sitting atop it with his legs crossed and hands perched on his knee. His professor leaned before him against his own, much larger oak desk.

 

"Oh, it's still 'Mr. Anderson' then, is it? Well then, as your teacher I have to say I'm impressed. You managed to write an  _actual sonnet_  in less than a class period. And all about my  _ass_. Sometimes your skills astound me,  _Mr. Hummel_."

 

The younger male rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Hey, you don't get to pull the mister act on  _me_ , Blaine. You're the one who's the damn teacher." His voice was huffy and annoyed as he sat there still uncomfortably aroused and now being made to wait even longer thanks to his pompous boyfriend. Of course, they couldn't exactly be open about their relationship- until the semester ended. If they were, Kurt would have to transfer classes or… something. It wasn't like a significant other could grade fairly. Not that Kurt would get less than an A in any 102 class, but that was beside the point.

 

The point was, the boys had to be careful about who noticed what, and Kurt was having a  _really_  hard time being careful when all he wanted to do was shove Blaine around and bend him over that desk and… "Babe? Are you uh… still with me?" Blaine was giving him a look full of concern even as his eyes remained blown with lust and it was just ridiculous and it made Kurt  _growl_. Blaine's brows shot up again as he took a step away from his desk, effectively shoving his crotch into Kurt's crossed knee as he licked his lips and reached his hands out to grab the younger man's shoulders.

 

Kurt immediately uncrossed his legs and spread them, reaching out to grab his boyfriend's hips and pull the professor between his knees, leaning up slightly to pepper his neck and jaw with soft but needy kisses. "I have much better skills than sonnet writing,  _professor_ ," he breathed huskily, pulling Blaine harder against his arousal and rolling his hips as best he could while still sitting on his desk.

 

They'd always played it a bit… safer in the past. The classroom was not the place for such acts. But that damn poem and those damn _pants_. Kurt had no idea how the hell his boyfriend even squeezed that glorious ass into them, but it just wasn't right or fair that he had to stare at it all through class and then not touch. So he was touching now. Hands reaching behind the shorter man and sliding into the pockets there, giving a squeeze and not even bothering to hold back the moan that poured from his lips.

 

"Dammit, Kurt, you're going to be the death of me," Blaine muttered, hips jerking of their own accord, rutting against his boyfriend's obvious erection. "And no more cursing my pants unless I can curse yours. You leave  _nothing_  to the imagination, babe, and it's so fucking distracting. Can't even check in with your during a lesson for the fear of having to lecture with a fucking hard on."

 

In a matter of seconds both boys were standing naked in the classroom and Blaine was leaning back against his desk again, Kurt sucking hard on his neck and clawing at his chest as the professor grabbed Kurt's ass and pulled him close, hips rolling. "Mmm, turn around, Blaine," the younger male groaned, licking the purple mark on his boyfriend's neck. "I wasn't kidding about fucking you over your desk."

 

"Oh,  _fuck_ , Kurt…" The promise of being taken over his desk had Blaine whimpering as he flipped himself around, shoving the papers and supplies off of the surface so that he could drop his chest down on heavy wood. While he turned around and cleared his desk, Blaine hadn't even noticed Kurt moving to his satchel. The younger man was back so fast that it didn't even seem possible that he'd managed to fetch the lube that was clearly coating his fingers as he started teasing Blaine's hole.

 

The student slid a finger in, wiggling and stretching as he nipped at his boyfriend's back, peppering his spine with little red marks from his teeth. He heard Blaine gasp as he slid in a second digit, and he dug his fingers into Blaine's hips, sure to leave bruises. "The noises you make are so sexy," Kurt muttered, scissoring his fingers until Blaine begged him for more and he slid a third in, thrusting up to his final knuckle and moving his fingers  _just so_  and stroking that sensitive spot that made the man below him positively howl.

 

"Kurt, mmm, come on! Fuck me already!" There was something incredibly arousing about the usually put-together teacher swearing and begging like a horny teen, and Kurt couldn't help but give in to his demands, removing his fingers and sliding a condom over his length, slicking himself up and slamming into his boyfriend with a reckless abandon.

 

Blaine screamed in pleasure as his fingers gripped the far edge of his desk, Kurt rocking his hips hard and fast, impaling him over and over again. It was rough and fast and carnal and it was everything they needed at that moment, and when the professor moaned out his release over his stomach and desk, which he shared with other teachers, which meant they really needed to make sure they cleaned up well. When they could move again.

 

Kurt followed Blaine over that edge with a high-pitched roar, collapsing over the older man's back, lips trailing softly along his shoulders and over the back of his neck. "You. Are.  _So_. Sexy," Kurt stated, noting each word with a kiss. God, did he ever love his boyfriend.

 

"Yeah, your little poem would lead me to believe it. You know we have to clean this up now though." He was still breathing a little heavily, but they were both slowly coming down from the afterglow and reality was creeping back in. "I really am impressed though. Writing a damn  _sonnet_. You're way too talented for this class, Kurt."

 

The younger half of the couple just laughed, gently removing himself from Blaine and disposing of the used condom before gathering their clothes and tossing Blaine's at him. "Good thing I have a good reason to bother showing up then, huh? And you are lucky I carry moist towelettes in my bag." He tossed the cleaning supplies at the professor with a small laugh and cocky pop of a hip. "I'm late for a lecture. You get to clean this up and then go home and think of a good way to give me some…  _extra credit_  for my brilliant poem."

 

And with a flirty wink and a flip of his hair, Kurt was off, leaving Blaine with a mixed look of amazement, happiness, and a roll of his eyes. Yep. Kurt would be the death of him one of these days. But for now he would just keep rolling with the wild student-turned-boyfriend who finally admitted he'd basically moved out of his dorm to live with the grad student in his tiny apartment. The boyfriend who would expect something good waiting for him when he got home. And Blaine definitely would have something good for his efforts with that sonnet about his  _ass_. That deserved a good reward.

 

Classroom clean and papers and supplies gathered up, Blaine left the room with a mischievous smile and a devious plan in mind. Oh yes, Kurt would be getting some great extra credit tonight.


End file.
